


The Queen and the Soldier

by kateavalanche



Category: Alice (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 21:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateavalanche/pseuds/kateavalanche
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Alice of Legend had never gone back through the Looking Glass?  What if she had set herself up as the new Queen?  And what if the fighting never stopped?  Inspired by the folksong, "The Queen and the Soldier"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen and the Soldier

            The Battle of Wonderland had been going on for time out of mind.  No one could remember when it began, or where, or why.  It wasn't even clear anymore who was fighting against whom.  All anyone knew was that the fighting had to continue on, that they were so close to winning.  Every dispatch from their queen said so.

            There were some who remembered bits and pieces.  Some Wonderlanders lived for a terrifically long time, and so were fighting in the early days, when they were just barely old enough to join up.  There were the ancient knights, who would fight on the side of whoever they believed was most just on that particular day.  There were the Tweedles, who didn't seem to fight on any side but their own.  There was Caterpillar, running intelligence back and forth. 

            And there was Hatter.  The Mad Hatter, people called him.  He maintained that the "Mad" needed to be dropped, and that everyone needed to open their damn eyes.  This war, he said, wasn't a war at all.  People were fighting and killing and dying - that part made it very warlike to be sure.  But wars were supposed to have a reason, and Hatter had once known the original reason the fighting began.  He couldn't quite remember it, but he knew that it had something to do with a looking glass, the Queen of Hearts, and a girl named Alice.  And he knew it had long since been dealt with.  There had been the beginnings of a peace agreement.  That, he remembered for certain.  He had been there when it failed.

            He hadn't been Hatter then.  He'd only been David, the hatmaker's son, and a newly promoted lieutenant in the Queen's army, bursting with pride.  He'd helped to end the war, helped to bring a stop to the bloodshed, and he'd been given the privilege of being in the cabinet room as the leaders worked out the terms of the peace.

            It had been overwhelming, his first glimpse of her highness, glittering in her red robes and her white crown.  He had been in the back of the room, and so that glimpse was the best look he got of her, but he had thought it would be enough to sustain him for the rest of his life.  She had had a small, sweet smile and wide, bright eyes.  At least, he was sure she did.  He never got a good look at her face.

            Her voice had been what did it.  That voice rang across the room like church bells in the distance, echoing over the hills, soft and beautiful but resonant and full.  No one could have that voice and be anything other than lovely and good.

            That was what he had believed.

            The advisors and councilors went back and forth quibbling over terms and conditions for what felt like hours.  The sun had been edging over the horizon when they began, and already it had reached the height of its daily circuit and was beginning to dip back down behind the tree line.  They bickered and fussed over land, laws, exchanges of prisoners of war, lines of inheritance, tributes to be paid - Hatter's head spun with it all.  But the two queens were silent the entire time.

            Finally, a document had been drawn up with something to please everyone.  Two of her advisors had leaned over her, one at each shoulder, the White Rabbit and the Cheshire Cat, and had whispered into her ears their thoughts on the matter.  He thought he saw her frown, but someone shuffled into his line of sight, blocking him.  Her chair scraped the floor as she stood and her robes swished about her.

            "Curious," was all she said, "Curious and curiouser."

            Hatter caught a flash of a sad smile before he saw her delicate hands pick up the paper and rip it in two.

            "Sleep well tonight, everyone.  I believe the fighting is not over.  No, it is not yet over."

            The room was still as she swept out, followed by her advisors and courtiers.  The door clicked shut behind them.  There was a beat, and then-

            Chaos erupted.  People were shouting, red in the face, waving wildly.  No one could understand why the queen had rejected the peace agreement, what she had meant by her parting words, and no one was sure whether or not they should be trying to kill each other right now, or if they were waiting until the morning.  The knights were howling about chivalry and this being a place of truce, while others - Dodo's voice rose above the clamor - were shouting "Chivalry be damned!" and brawling on the floor.

            Hatter had run.

            He could admit that now without any shame.

            He had run and run until the plains beyond the castle were far behind him, until he was nearly to the Tulgey Wood.  He didn't dare actually go in.  This was back before they had tried to enlist its inhabitants, and it was still commonplace to run into a jabberwocky, a jubjub bird, or a bandersnatch there.  No, he wanted a place to hide, but he wasn't that desperate. 

            For months he'd hidden wherever he could.  He had intended to hide forever, if he could - hide from the beautiful queen with the voice like bells and the smile like heartbreak. 

            He saw that smile in his sleep.  Just the smile, nothing else.  The smile that looked like it would shatter at the lightest touch.  As time dragged on and he caught snatches of news from overheard conversations, he began to want to shatter it.  He wanted to find the queen who had inexplicably kept the battle going, and he wanted to shatter her.  Or at least to understand her.  To find out if it was even possible to understand her with her voice like bells and her hazy, hidden face. 

            A whole year passed before he met Charlie.  Charlie was completely mad, but so was Hatter when he found him. 

            Living out of trees and hidey holes for a year had taken its toll on Hatter.  He was gaunt and wild-eyed, dressed in mismatched suit pieces stolen from clotheslines and a rumpled porkpie hat.  A fever had been burning through him and he had been shivering in an abandoned shed when the knight stumbled - literally - upon him. 

            He had spouted what might have sounded like nonsense at the time, but Hatter had been delirious.  He had barely any memory of the days that followed, only that they involved a lot of Charlie chanting and hopping and feeding him borogove stew. 

            After a week, Hatter was well enough to talk with Charlie.  He learned that he wasn't just a knight, he was the White Knight.  Originally the squire to the previous White Knight, he had been there when his master was slain by the enemy, either the Lion or the Unicorn, Charlie wasn't certain.  He had had to take up his master's lance and carry on in his place.  Hatter asked if Charlie wasn't worried about how long he'd been gone.  After all, the Ancient Knights took desertion seriously.  But Charlie had brushed aside his concerns with a chortle and shuffled off to polish his armor. 

            After the second week, he and Charlie were fast friends.  Charlie was still absolutely mad as a box of frogs, but he was strangely cheering too.  They had begun riding back towards the Knights, and on the way they talked about anything that came to mind.  They talked about the war, and what it might have been like if things were different.  What if the Looking Glass girl hadn't brought down the old Queen of Hearts?  Or what if she had simply gone home after doing so?  Would things be better?  Would another, equally power hungry ruler have stepped forward?

            Images flashed through Hatter's head as they talked about it, images of another version of his world.  Happy people taking tiny sips of colorful drinks and living high above the city.  Maybe he would have been happy too?  He imagined himself in a position of influence - not too high up, just enough to keep himself comfortable - maybe with a pretty girl of his own.

            The smile like heartbreak tore through his head again, and he stopped that line of thought short.

            The Knights took him in, in a way.  They smiled and nodded at his tirades about the injustice of the whole war, and they let him fight alongside them for a while.  He fought for people who had no one else to fight for them, and it began to feel routine. 

            That was a horrible thing to say of war, with his comrades dying around him, people he'd come to think of as friends.  But it did.  Wonderlanders have the ability to become used to anything, and to push aside any niggling little doubt or anxiety or guilt.  Not forever, of course, but deep enough that they can worry about other things while those feelings fester and take root inside.

            It was another few years before Hatter stopped being able to quash those feelings.

            The battle had taken them back to the fields he had fled through so long ago.  The shadow of the Queen's castle loomed over them.  His Queen.  Queen Alice, the girl out of legend. 

            Finally, whatever wall he'd built up in his mind crumbled.  Those feelings that had taken root had finally pushed their roots underneath that wall and torn it asunder, leaving him raw with guilt and self-loathing for all of the violence he'd taken part in.  He couldn't bring himself to fight another day.  Charlie understood, or tried, and promised he would explain as best he could to the other knights.  He lent Hatter Guinevere, his horse, and told him to do what he must to be at ease.  With a fond smile, the knight saw him off as he rode towards the castle to do what he had been wanting to do for years.

            The closer he drew to the castle, the steeper the hill became.  Guinevere never faltered though, and he wondered if she had a sense of what was going through his head at that moment.  He wondered if he understood it himself.  What felt like centuries of pent-up anger and confusion was pressing against the seams, threatening to burst, but he held it back.  Not much longer.  He could make out the expressions on the castle guards' faces.  They looked suspicious, but not alarmed.  He realized that he still had on his mismatched suit, along with chainmail and a helmet, and Guinevere still had all of her gear from the Ancient Knights.  He had to admit, just then, he finally looked the part of the Mad Hatter.  The guards were right to be suspicious.

            They were wrong to not be alarmed.

            "State your name and business!" they barked at him as Guinevere clopped to a halt.

            "My name is David Hatter, my allegiance is to her highness, Queen Alice, and I have news on the plans of the Ancient Knights," even as he said the words, he felt a twist of guilt for using Charlie's trust to his advantage.

            "Your allegiance is to the Queen?  Then why do you arrive dressed as one who owes loyalty to the Knights?"

            "You mistake my horse's allegiance for my own," he smiled, hoping his cheek wouldn't cost him now, so close to his goal.

            The guards eyed him warily, looked at each other, and back to him.  They seemed lost for words when, from inside, came the voice that had haunted Hatter since the last time he had been here.  And it still sounded like bells.

            "Let the poor man in already.  It's bad manners to keep a guest at the door."

            He had to fight to keep his jaw from dropping as, out from the shadow of the high, arched doorway, came a woman.

            Barely a woman, more of a girl really.  She smiled the same smile he remembered, but he had never seen it close up before.  The light of it reached her eyes, wide and blue and distant.  Her hair hung loose and wild around her shoulders like a wayward child's.  Only the crown on her head and that smile like heartbreak convinced him that this was the same woman who, years ago, had torn up the paper that could have ended her country's suffering. 

            "Well?  Are you coming?"

            Nodding dumbly, Hatter followed his queen down the hall, away from the sunlight and the guards and into the shadows. 

            "You don't have information for me about the Knights," she said once they were out of the guards' hearing, "You don't look like a spy or a traitor.  A madman, maybe, but an honest one."

            He paused, and at the sound of that, the queen stopped and turned to face him.  He said, "I can't fight for you anymore, your highness."

            "I see," was all she said, and with a small wave of her hand, she turned and started again down the hall and up a winding stair.

            "You see?  Is that all?" he hurried to catch up to her, his worn shoes slapping the smooth stone.

            "Yes," she continued to climb, her pace never slowing, "I remember your face, you know.  I'm not a fool.  You were there, weren't you?  That day."

            They came to a landing at the top of the staircase, and just beyond the landing was a heavy door.  Hatter moved forward to get it for her, but she placed her slim hand against it and it swung open immediately.  She waved her hand again, clearly wanting him to keep following her.  He stepped slowly, unsure of what he was getting himself into.  Confronting the queen had seemed all good and well when he assumed it would be very public and end in his death shortly thereafter.  This - skulking about dim passages and rooms with The Alice, Alice of Legend?  This wasn't what he had bargained for.  Not at all.

            It was a bedroom.  Her bedroom, judging by how easily she sat down on the edge of the bed.  There was a sense of strangeness, but also of possibility.  The possibility of what, he hadn't worked out yet.

            "It's been years, and every time I see this castle on the hill, I can't help but think of you ripping up that paper, your highness, when all you had to do was sign it and save your people from this - all this killing that we're doing, and that's being done to us.  And, I suppose the only real question I've got right now is why?"

            She sat on the bed, her legs crossed in front of her, and she watched him for a long moment.  When she finally looked away, she reached out a hand to pat the bed beside her, "Sit down, I can't think with you standing and staring at me like that.  And none of this 'your highness' anymore.  It's Alice.  Just Alice."

            "Well, 'Just Alice'," he said as he edged toward the spot where she had told him to sit, "I have a theory about why, if you're not in an obliging mood."

            She raised an eyebrow but remained silent as he sat next to her.

            "I think you get off on it.  I think you want the war to go on because you think it's fun.  But you haven't been down there, in the thick of it.  You haven't seen the blood, the dying, the grown men and women crying out for their parents, their lovers, their children, their gods.  You haven't seen anything, _Alice_ , and you seem more of a child than a queen if you ask me.  So tell me, how close am I?"

            Those blue eyes flashed and the sad smile was gone, her lips pressed in a tight, thin line.  She snapped, "You don't know what you're talking about.  There's no point even trying to make you understand, you wouldn't get it anyway."

            As she spoke, the anger drained out of her and she looked so exhausted and small.  It almost looked like she was on the verge of tears just before she slammed shut, pulling herself inward and hiding any sign of emotion.  Hatter was never good at taking hints though, and he ignored her defensive body language, placing a hand on the top of her head and stroking down her hair.  He couldn't explain why he was comforting this woman who, until moments ago, he had been convinced was a heartless, unfeeling monster.  It just felt right, and he couldn't stop himself. 

            "I can't understand if you don't try," he said quietly, "Silly girl, what is it like shut up in this castle?  Is that what's driven you half-mad?"

            She let out a wet chuckle before stifling the noise, refusing to meet his eyes.

            "Whatever the reason, I can't fight for you anymore.  I quit.  I'm out, and you can find someone else to do the killing for you.  Just look out your window, Alice.  Tell me you see why I can't be a part of that anymore."

            Turning her head to the window, she looked out as he asked.  A number of emotions flashed across her face, most of them too quick for him to identify, but one of them - want?  What could a queen ever be wanting for?  And then fear.  Definitely fear, though only for a second.  She looked back to him with that same sad smile that had cracked something in him years ago, and quick as can be, she pulled him down to her and kissed him.

            It was a clumsy kiss, awkward and with too much momentum behind it at first, and their teeth clacked sharply.  Hatter pulled back, confused and afraid this was a test, a trap of some kind.  But Alice only shook her head and leaned up slowly, brushing her lips gently against his that time.  The crack her smile had opened years ago, her kiss blew wide open, and Hatter felt his hands fly on their own to her cheeks, to cradle her head, to tangle in her hair and pull ever so slightly before his brain caught up with him.

            Sucking in a breath and pushing himself away from the bed, he stood and looked down at the girl.  Her eyes followed him only until she realized that he wasn't going to come back, and then she stared down at her lap, refusing to look up.

            "You said I looked honest, your highness."

            "Alice."

            "Your highness, you said that I looked like a madman, but an honest one.  And I am.  Honest, that is.  Not mad.  And all I want out of life is a chance to live honestly, quietly, with a wife who I love, but who makes absolutely no sense to me."

            He knelt by the bed, bringing himself to her eye level, but still she would not look at him.

            "Your highness, I don't understand you at all."

            Her head snapped up so quickly that the crown tumbled down onto the covers, but she didn't notice. 

            This time he was sure.  That had been want he had seen on her face.

            She stood slowly, leaving the crown forgotten on the bed, and she pressed one last kiss to his cheek.  Taking his hand in hers, she led him out of the room, down the stairs, and through the hall.

            "Wait here.  I'll only be a moment, and then I'll come back to meet you.  Wait for me, Hatter," she said as she drew her fingers along his cheekbone and through his unruly hair.

            He listened to her steps, light and quick, along the hall and fought to keep the smile from his face.  He had a feeling the guards standing not ten feet from him wouldn't take kindly to the idea of their queen running off with a half-mad ex-soldier.  The smile crept across his face, regardless of his best efforts.  He had started the day convinced he'd be executed, and now he was ending it by eloping with a queen out of legend. 

            A sharp whistle caught his attention, and he looked up to see where it had come from.

            Then, pain.

            Sharp.

            Radiating.

            He felt sticky.

            Then he fell.

            Everything went dark.

            The next minute - or it might have been as much as a year - there was a spot of grey.  It lightened more and more, until it looked like a hallway.  It looked like the hallway he had watched Alice go down just before.

            "Alice?"

            "My half-mad Hatter," she said, "You asked me why I tore up the paper?  Why I couldn't stop the fighting?  This was why."

            "I don’t understand," he mumbled, still feeling bleary and confused.

            "Because of the terms.  To end the war, I had to die.  I wasn't ready yet.  And then I met you.  And then I was."

            "Your Highness," he said with a smile, standing and taking her hand in his, "Your ways are very strange."

 

* * *

 

A soldier came knocking upon the Queen's door.

He said, "I am not fighting for you anymore."

And the Queen know she'd seen his face some place before

And slowly she led him inside.

He said, "I've watched your palace up here on the hill

And I've wondered who's the woman for whom we all kill,

But I'm leaving tomorrow and you can do what you will,

Only first I am asking you 'Why?'"

Down a long, narrow hall he was led,

Into her room with her tapestries red,

And she never once took the crown from her head,

And she asked him then to sit down.

He said,"I see you now and you are so very young,

But I've seen more battles lost than I've seen battles won

And I've got this intuition says it's all for your fun

So now will you tell me, 'Why?'"

 

Well the young Queen she fixed him with an arrogant eye,

She said, "You won't understand and you may as well not try"

But her face was a child's and he thought she would cry

And she closed herself up like a fan.

She said, "I have swallowed a secret thread,

It cuts me inside and often I've bled,

And he laid his hands then on the top of her head

And he bowed her down to ground.

"Tell me, how hungry are you, how weak you must feel

As you are living here alone and you are never revealed,

I won't march again on your battlefield

And he took her to the window to see.

 

Well the sun it was gold thought the sky it was grey.

She wanted more than she ever could say

But she knoew how it frightened her and she turned away

And she would not look at his face again.

He said, "I want to live as an honest man,

To get all I deserve and the give all I can,

And to love a young woman who I don't understand

Your Highness, your ways are very strange."

But the crown it had fallen and she thought she would break

And she stood there, ashamed, of how her heart ached,

And she took him to the doorstep and she asked him to wait,

She would only be a moment inside.

Out in the distance her order was heard

And the soldier was killed still waiting for her word.

While the Queen went on strangling in the solitude she prefered.

The battle continued on.

 

A soldier came knocking upon the Queen's door.

He said, "I am not fighting for you anymore."

And the Queen know she'd seen his face some place before

And slowly she led him inside.


End file.
